


Built for this Time

by regsregis



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Jack the PA, M/M, Rhys the CEO, mildly manipulative bahavior, miscomunication being the driving force behind this relationship, rated E for the next chapter, yes they fuck how should i tag it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-09-27 12:06:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17161703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regsregis/pseuds/regsregis
Summary: What would have happened if Jack never made it in time to kill Tassiter at the end of TPS? What if someone snatched that victory from him? Said someone being the least competent clutz in need of a PA to babysit him through the unexpected raise in ranks.AKA a Reverse PA AU i might have mentioned in passing but never intended to write.Bear in mind that the timeline has been slightly adjusted to fit the needs.





	1. Idiocracy

The heavy warmth of the hands folded at the small of his back and the comforting weight of a weapon at his hip were a grounding presence against the vast expanses of space just the other side of reinforced glass. Jack took his time soaking in the view, thoughts idly swirling about, looping back to the recent shift in power on each round without a fail.

One last sigh, private and tired, and he was trailing back to the large desk taking up a lion’s share of the space on the elevated area of the office. The worn down leather of a black and red swivel chair was soft under his touch, enough give to speak of years of intense use and Jack hated it with as much passion as he hated the default Hyperion colour scheme.

He nudged it a bit farther from the edge of the desk, the chair now half turned and inviting, a pause given as he considered trying it out.

“You’d look so much better in yellow sweetheart,” as did he, the bright shade of warm yellow of his sweater - Jack’s own brand of rebellion. The departaments on Helios were colour coded, and even though the company flew the blacks and reds, yellow was reserved for the programming departament Jack used to be the head of.

Before his demotion that is. Before, thanks to a dumb stroke of luck, all of his carefully laid out plans crumbled.

The pressurized door hissed open, forcing Jack to take a cautionary step away from the desk  as the sole reason why he wasn’t in charge of Hyperion just yet stumbled in.

Hair out of place and face flushed the President looked slightly out of it, tossing a sheepish glance once he spotted his personal assistant glaring daggers at him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rhys mumbled, long legs taking him in even longer strides to his workstation, sidestepping around Jack who refused to budge.

“Sir,” the word was bitter against his tongue and choking him up.

Truth be told, Jack didn’t give a shit about his boss’ timeliness, or lack of it thereof, scoffing as a beaten messenger bag landed on the desk. As far as he knew, this month’s paycheck hasn’t come through yet, tangled in the red tape as HR struggled with updating the new president’s personal details. Or maybe, some scatter minded assistant made a slight mistake when inputting a long, very, very complicated string of digits linking to Rhys’ bank account.

It was clear that the man tried to do his best to look presentable for his new position with what little the middle manager’s salary could cover.

Jack smoothed out his silky, designer black shirt and made a beeline for the coffee machine in the small, open kitchenette adjacent to the office. Back when he still was a runner up gunning for Tassiter’s position, Jack had plans to expand it, now however, blueprints were shoved into the back of a drawer in his apartment, waiting for their time to shine one day.

Staring blankly at the mug filling up with prime, dark roast, he entertained himself with happy thoughts of revamping the place more to his liking. A touch of dismembering trap door here and maybe a pizza delivery slide there would surely spruce up the place.

All he needed to do was to get rid of that stupid, attractive asshole. Thoughts coming to a screeching halt, Jack eyed his boss from the corner of his eye, little attention paid to the now overflowing coffee as the liquid spilled over and drained into the bottom of the machine. He backtracked to his last thought, re-examining his statement against the details of a silhouette bowed over a brightly lit screen. Now that the man has calmed down from his rush to the office, quiet and focused one a report he was reading, he was simply too busy to do anything dorky to upend the charm of his regular features, the lines of his face only setting into something harder. Rhys wasn’t classically handsome, not the same way Jack was, ‘attractive’ however nicely covered it, Jack concluded, eventually deeming his original statement true and on point. As most of his assessments usually were.

That was, until his boss tried to perch one leg on a small shelf mounted underneath the desk, the smooth sole of his dress shoe skidding and sending his knee bumping into the curled hook keeping all the cables bundled.

“Motherfu…” Rhys let out a pained groan and Jack winced in sympathy, eyes refocusing on the overflowing mug “...fucker,” and with a sigh, finished in agreement.

Jack dumped the content of the mug and the mug itself into the sink and started another cycle just to get the coffee just right. That was one of the few perks of working here, although the shareholder’s board promised him so much more when Rhys was elected. Despite the fact that the description clearly stated ‘personal assistant’ it covered a lot more than just that, Jack virtually acting as the second in command, more experience and an abrasive personality oftentimes forcing him to babysit the current president. Rumour had it Rhys killed Tassiter during Zarpedon’s attack on Helios, but it was Jack who found the kid with the dearly departed CEO at his feet, dead scared and with cybernetics going haywire from where he was plugged into the station’s systems. If not for a flock of guards at Jack’s heels, Rhys would be done for, disposed quickly and mercifully, but dumb luck and sheer will to survive has earned him the ire of his PA’s anger ever since.

Right now he watched the man fumble with a stack of datapads over the rim of his mug, coffee hot and thick, soothing some of his perpetual irritation.

Part of Jack’s duties was sorting through the morning reports, choosing which needed the attention of the most powerful man on the station. In reality, he usually dumped the top half of them into the trash bin straight away and just tossed the remaining half onto Rhys’ desk for the man to deal with them himself.

This morning it seemed like he must have disposed of something Rhys actively requested, a mismatched set of eyes finally meeting his, “Ha...Jack,” their arrangement was still new to the both of them, Rhys more used to mostly just being vaguely aware of the existence of the head of programming, perhaps jealous of his position near the top floor but nothing more beyond that. “Jack,” this time he composed himself after his initial stumble, voice a fraction bit more demanding “where are the reports on the mining sites I have requested? And where’s my coffee?”

Jack could tell that even what little power the kid gained in middle management shot straight to his head, although the scope of sheer power he could exercise now, at the top of the Hyperion’s food chain, completely escaped him. Still, Jack wasn’t all that willing to indulge his boss in the least.

“Reports are on your desk, the coffee is over there,” he pointed to the coffee machine before dropping himself onto the couch, “shithead,” and added quietly, more of an afterthought.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the reports are in front of you, the coffee is over there and you’ve got some cheese spread on your face,” Jack’s voice didn’t even waver as he started browsing today’s schedule.

“Can you get me the coffee, please?” That didn’t sound like a request at all, Jack freezing in place for a few precious seconds as he worked on swallowing his pride. It was a recurring theme of each and every of their mornings, about a month in the making now and Jack blatantly refused to adjust his behaviour.

“Not your secretary,” he mumbled but after a short while, dragged himself back to the kitchenette, to fill Rhys data mining blue cup less than halfway up. On the upside, and not without a solid dose of spite, when Rhys wasn’t looking, he skipped cream and sugar in favour of a heartful ball of spit. “Here. You have a board meeting in half and you look like a right mess,” hopefully the bastard would choke on his stupid coffee.

Without sparing a single look at the offered drink, Rhys downed it in three gulps and Jack first gagged before instantly growing to regret not putting cyanide in it. Anyway, new day new chance, he could wait.

“This is my best look,” Rhys stared pensively into his empty mug before trying to straighten out the front of his vest.

“Your best won’t do,” as he spoke, Jack was already rummaging through the drawers of the desk. Tassiter must have kept a spare change of clothes or at least some accessories, “you’re just gonna end up embarrassing us both. They already treat you, and me by this extension, like circus monkeys,” he hissed in frustration.

“I need them to hear me out.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘f course you do, you’re the boss here.” Or as close to it as Rhys could get with the current tug for power. Helios might have been his, but a new CEO hasn’t exactly been chosen yet, the internal struggle tearing the company apart. “Take these,” Jack handed him a pair of high quality brand new gloves, made to fit or so they looked but Tassiter was the same kind of long and boney as Rhys so he figured they were going to work well. He also found an expensive looking watch, the strap a bit too long to wrap evenly around Rhys’ wrist but the man was determined, stapling a makeshift hole a bit higher up. A rolled up sleeve as Rhys fixed the watch snuggly around his stupidly skinny wrist unveiled an intricate pattern of blue ink, Jack’s thoughts straying to the lines leading up his arm and leaving him wondering how far the design went. And how easy it would be to hold both of those arms pinned together with one hand.

The outfit still lacked something to bring it all together, not that Jack was particularly concerned with fashion but he understood well that the way one presented themselves influenced how people would see you. The red of Rhys’ shirt and cybernetic arm contrasted nicely with the dark grey vest and his pinstripe slacks, but there was no integrity, an exasperated sigh escaping him as Jack tugged the tie from around his own neck. A gift from his late wife but what was in the past should stay there and he felt no remorse parting with it, looping the soft fabric under the flicked collar of Rhys’ button up.

No amount of patient waiting or equally impatient tapping of his foot made Rhys do anything about the tie however, the man gingerly picking up the end of the unfastened fabric, a completely clueless expression on his face, “I uhh… i usually wear clip ons…”

Jack stared in disbelief, “no class, no sense of fashion, how are you planning on getting anywhere in your life?” As much as he was grumbling under his breath, Jack still took over the task, ignoring the offended complains about his rude remarks, and running the tie in loops until it came together in a nice knot. Not too complicated, and just needing to be tightened, Jack’s hands lingering as the knot rested against Rhys’ throat. How easy it would be to just tug it that little bit tighter, the fabric already digging into the skin of the other man’s neck and wrinkling the collar of his shirt. Rhys didn’t move, made no attempt at loosening it, frozen under the scrutinizing gaze and with his breath slightly picking up the pace.

An interesting observation, filed away for now although Jack found it increasingly harder to pull away, eyes sweeping up from how fragile his boss’ throat looked against his larger hands and to the nervous sweep of Rhys’ tongue, leaving a wet trail over his parted lips.

“Thank you,” perhaps a little bit too hoarse to chalk it up to a simple lack of confidence, the words broke the spell, Jack pulling away to scale the other man toes to the tip of his idiotic coiff one last time.

“Don’t mention it, finally looking almost your status cupcake.” Despite his better judgement and a foul mood, Jack winked

“I’m pretty sure that’s a breach of company’s interpersonal relations policy.” Rhys’ nervous chuckle grated on his nerves but there was something undeniably charming about the way he’d always muss up the longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck whenever he’d get embarrassed.

“Stop fucking up your hair,” Jack’s bark was reasonably veering into something more aggressive, “report it to the HR after the meeting if you must. And gimme me back my tie while you’re at it.”

Rhys kept the tie and Jack decided to never bring it up again.

 

* * *

 

They arrived at the meeting fashionably late, as per Jack’s advice and against Rhys’ better judgement. The board has already gathered, each member holo projected from their own corner of the galaxy although a majority of them resided in the cozy, safe core worlds. Oh how Jack hated each and every of those pompous turds.

Blue spectres sat around a long conference table, the oldest and wrinklest of them positioned at the head of the table and with a single empty chair left at the far end and slightly to the side.

There was nowhere to sit for Jack and the board members gave him an annoyed glare, “what is he doing here?” one of them questioned, Jack’s own annoyance nearly boiling over.

“He,” Jack said with half the spite he wanted, “is here to take notes because someone has to, Mauve”

Not that he really planned on doing that, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“It’s miss Penthouse or m’am for you John.”

“You’ve made Jack my SIC, it’s only fair he gets to be here,” Rhys interjected before the conversation could turn into a full blown argument.

After that, they mostly ignored both of them, going over the ever falling behind robotics department, even though out of all of them, it was Rhys who actually could have the most to say about it, a prime example of how much the department kept advancing himself. His opinion wasn’t considered for the monthly financial report either, the man reduced to just sitting there and looking pretty. It took about two hours, all pressing subjects covered and the head of the board announcing that the meeting was adjourned for Rhys’ patience to completely run out.

“There is one more thing we need to go over,” there was a certain kind of steel to his voice and that was something Jack could see himself respecting. A data pad came sliding across the table, a piece of chewing gum still stuck to it from when Rhys must have dug it out of the trash bin. “The mining site down on Pandora. I caught glimpses of it in the systems and these reports confirm it. Hyperion is using ex convicts as slaves to mine the Eridium.”

Whatever budding regard for the man’s confidence there might have been, his words threw that to the wind, Jack covering his stunted expression behind both hands. This absolute blissful idiot. Focusing on the least important of all aspects and showing his weak underbelly during his first official board meeting.

“What of it? We haven’t heard any complaints from the society wanting to get rid of this...element.” Mauve sounded dismissing, the others starting to whisper among themselves, disrespectful little giggles rising here and there.

“This is inhuman, they are dying there, the eridium poisoning is killing them faster than the weather conditions.” Rhys looked livid, flush creeping up the exposed part of his neck.

Jack for his part, prayed the floor would just suddenly open and suck him in, he did tell his boss not to embarrassed them and yet the first thing he did was to just go off about some stupid shit.

He peeked from between his parted fingers, taking in the situation and the stunned expression on some of those bastard’s faces, the angry, raising pitch of Rhys’ voice and the absolutely disdainful scowl on the head of the board’s face. Perhaps the situation could still be salvaged, Jack’s instincts kicking into action as he sprung forward.

His iron grip pulled the Hyperion president down and back into the chair by the back of his collar, “shut up,” although hissed, it still must have been audible to the other attendants. Just as the surprised yelp was, although he didn’t let them dwell on that for too long, giving a strong shove to the back of Rhys’ conference chair to get it moving, wheeling the man around the table and to the very top of it.

The chair occupied by the holographic version of the most senior of the lot was kicked to the side, Rhys dropped out of his unwitting momentum in the most prestigious spot.

“Now. You’ve heard the man, your president in case it has escaped you” leaning over his surprised boss’ shoulder, Jack graced the remaining members with a glare, one that used to send his subordinates running for their lives, “he doesn’t like what you’ve been doing. I don’t either, and if you keep our hands tied, we can’t work like that!” He was acutely aware of the other man squirming against his side but he didn’t have time to deal with that, the power and respect needed to be snatched now that this stagnant bunch of idiots was too stunned to interrupt him, his hand coming up to rest heavily against the junction between Rhys’ shoulder and neck, “slaves will reflect badly if the press catches wind of that. We can’t afford that right now, you can’t afford that if you want the company to get anywhere. Give us resources to cover their…”Jack hesitated, briefly wondering what Rhys would consider improving their workforce’s situation, “dental and dunno, multisport. They have human rights just like me and you!” Oh but he was really getting into it, although the topic of this speech was usually as far from his concerns as yesterday’s accident in janitorial, Jack felt he was doing an amazing job here, “and soon we will be able to expand our reach across the shitthole. That’s what we all want, innit?” Although he definitely enjoyed making threats way better, there was an undeniable passion to his long winded speech and promises to tame the planet.

The silence that followed was eventually broken by the same idiot who insulted him earlier, “us? We? John, you seem to be getting ahead of yourself, it’s not your decision to make.”

“The president has made his will clear, I’m just reiterating it for your tiny brains to grasp.” An offended hiss stirred in between the the attendants, “Let me make it crystal clear, you may feel safe in your cozy little offices on Eden,” his voice dropped into something threatening, a promise of violence these people weren’t used to experiencing firsthand, “but Helios is now Hyperion’s largest hub, housing a majority of our military force, I wouldn’t be so sure you can refuse this request…” Jack trailed off with a wolfish smirk, one last sweeping look to make sure no one in the room felt excluded. The click of the ‘end conversation’ button had nearly the same air of finality to it as ending someone’s life did and it sure as hell brought him just as much joy.

Tilting his head to face the only remaining person, he found Rhys’ eyes bright, wide open and way, way too close than he had anticipated. Only now that the power trip caught up to him, Jack could finally feel the blood rushing in his ears and the shortage of air in his lungs, breath nearly shaking. Close like that, Jack could feel the warmth against his side, eagerness nearly palpable between them and edging him on, a whisper to see what would happen if he closed the distance - a hard to resist tug in his limbs.  Rhys didn’t look scared, more in awe than anything, quiet and still, eyes roaming over Jack’s face looking for something.

“Impressive,” he said after a while, and cleared his throat, a deeper breath making his chest expand as Jack reluctantly pulled out of his personal space, “but you didn’t need to resort to threats. I had it under control.”

With a snort, Jack dropped into the nearby chair, legs lazily sprawled and fingers brushing across his chin, “sure had. Not sure they realized that though.”

That got him a haughty sniff as the other man sat straighter and uncurled his fingers to present a small drive cradled in the crook of his gloved palm, “They would. However incompetent you take me for, they did not elect me president out of their good will. Tassiter has left me a parting gift and they fear that more than they fear someone desecrating their ornate little pillows they use for their hemorrhoids.”

The hungry gaze Jack couldn’t hide had Rhys tucking the drive back into the front pocket of his vest and shooting him a wary gaze.

“Blackmail? Oh baby,” he leaned forward, scooting back closer to the other man and boxing him in between his arms as he placed his hands on the armrests of Rhys’ chair, “me and you? We’re gonna go far together.” 

 

* * *

 

They didn’t get very far. Not in the upcoming couple weeks, even though the board begrudgingly granted them more funds and a bit of leeway to do what they wanted.

Rhys’ good intentions...ended up causing more harm than good, his gracious ‘gift’ to the miners starting a real uprising down on Pandora and eventually leading to Eridium contamination of the local area. The reports and numbers on the ‘accident’ were already waiting on Rhys’ desk, the President not yet aware of his failure and the loss of Hyperion’s rather shaky grip on New Haven.

Jack scrolled through the first datapad, a holo display of Pandora’s uneven terrain hovering just above Rhys’ desk and with deep violet veins showing the reach of the contamination, the volatile element travelling through the underground waters to poison the soil.

The despicable chair was kicked to the side but aside from it, Jack felt really at home behind Tassiter’s gigantic desk, cluttered with Rhys’ junk as it was.

He was dragged out of his contemplations by the security locks on the door clocking open and a quiet hiss as three people entered the office. Looking up from his spot, and this time Jack didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t messing with things beyond his clearance, ha scaled the newcomers through squinted eyes, the soft glow of the holodisplay and the backlight of Elpis behind his back the only illumination in the room.

“The desk makes you look smaller, Jack,” a spiteful voice cut through the silence.

“Still larger than your non existent dick, Jeffrey.”

Next to him, stood a man that should have never made it this far in life. Jack remembered him from the mailroom duties back in the day, a sleazy bastard who has ass kissed his way up the chain of command, “that mouth of yours will only get you into troubles, have some respect for my PA.” Wallethead, recently promoted to the COO and Rhys’ main competitor in the race for the CEO position, he mainly owed his unexpected success to Blake’s skills. The man truly could make a diamond out of a turd although in Jack’s humble opinion, once a turd Vasquez would stay one no matter the hard work Blake and the HR put into him, pompous and pretentious with an ego and expectations to match Hyperion’s chairmen. “Looks to me like you’ve lost something of yours. Day to day duties becoming too much for you?”

Rhys was clearly in a huff, arms crossed over his chest and nose offendingly pointing towards the ceiling. It had Jack running one hand across his chin and wondering what that idiot got up to this time. The president was supposed to slip out just for a second to grab a lunch and dutifully trott back to the office so he could eat somewhere no one beside Jack would see him get sauce on his shirt.

“Did you try to sneak out to eat with some peons again?” Wouldn’t really be the first time and Jack was far from impressed.

“I’ll have you know I have a life outside of work. And friends to spend time with.” Rhys’ reply was mumbled even as he obediently marched back to his spot, and the closer to his PA he got, the more bravado escaped him.

“Friends-shmends, you can’t be seen mingling with some grunts and…” Jack was happy to go on a full blown tirade only to be interrupted by Vasquez’s frustratingly cheerful giggle.

“What is it Jack, can’t even manage to get something delivered for your superior? Remind me Jeff, what did you get me today?”

“A prime rib eye with a side of kale and quail eggs, sir” for his part, Blake looked as annoyed with this arrogant shithead as anyone else but it seemed to completely fly over wallethead's head, the man too busy basking in his own glory to pay attention to such details. Jeffrey Blake viciously hated two things in life, having his name shortened, and losing. Jack could tell the man wasn’t willing to lose to him any time soon. For his part, Jack hated the two superior officers with only mildly varying levels of passion, neither of them having ever stepped their perfectly polished shoes outside of the safety of the station.

“I’m not his secretary, blame Meg for that.”

“Megan’s off today,” he was interrupted for the second time today and if looks could kill, Rhys would have dropped dead right there and then.

“Off? Off today?” Whatever excuses for the poor woman Rhys might have had, they were drowned in a sea of promises to get her fired, or, better yet, airlocked, for such recklessness. “That aside, did the two of you menaces want anything important or can you just fuck off right away?”

“Careful, careful,“ Vasquez waggled his perfectly manicured finger, “remember who you are talking to.”

“We just wanted to deliver your lost property,” it seemed that Blake had as little regard for the two higher officers as did Jack although the man kept curiously eyeing the content of the desk, undoubtedly trying to sneak a peek at what the two of them were up to. Which only led to Jack promptly shutting of the display and Rhys following along to turn the regular lights in the office on and temporarily blinding the duo facing towards the strong LEDs.

“Mind your own business Jeffrey, heard there was a real epidemic of people waking up one eye shorter lately.”

Despite the tense atmosphere and all the snapping, they soon were left alone, after all, Rhys still was marginally higher in ranks than Vasquez and the two couldn’t officially go up against him without being accused of treason.

“Soooo…” Rhys let out a tense breath, surely thankful to Jack for being saved from the company of those two idiots, “what have you got for me?”

Jack only motioned towards the desk and let the president slowly process all the information, watching with glee as the corners of his mouth turned down and expression became gradually more pinched. “That… I didn’t mean for the situation to turn out like this. It doesn’t look good, Jack… what are we supposed to do now?”

The kicked puppy expression helped chase away the distaste Blake’s presence has left, Jack leaning against the desk with his arms crossed.

“Yeah, of course you didn’t mean but don’t tell me you didn’t expect it,” he was sure Rhys didn’t anticipate for the situation to go south, “that’s what you get for trying to help bandits you blissful moron. Give them a finger and they’ll try to snatch the whole arm.”

“But you backed me up! You helped execute the plan, we had our people in New Haven and now they are dying as well.” Rhys heavily dropped onto his chair, both hands running over his face as the man struggled with the repercussions of his choices.

“Because that’s my freaking job numbskull, you get something dumb into your head and all I can do is help you get it out.” Jack’s lied rolled all the smoother off of his tongue thanks to his imagination running a vivid simulation of him quite literally lobotomizing the stupid out of Rhys’ skull.

Rhys only harrumphed skeptically and once again started shuffling through the reports.

“Don’t run off alone like that again,” just to rub some more salt into the wound, Jack backtracked to the previous subject. He’d let Rhys battle his inner demons and consciousness later. “Do you know how many people would love to just ‘help’ you trip down the stairs or choke on a fry? Not to mention someone poisoning your food or straight up stabbing you in the back.” Not that Jack was particularly opposed to any of those ideas but Rhys had to die at a more opportune time if he didn’t want to lose another chance at a promotion.

“Didn’t you promise to find a suitable bodyguard for me? How long has it already been Jack? Nearly a month and I refuse to believe you’ve found no one.”

That only had Jack huffing in frustration and marching off to his own workstation which in truth was just a repurposed couch and a coffee table. Mainly because he refused getting a proper desk as that would make his sorry state feel all the more permanent. “I might have someone in mind, just need to make sure she’ll be as loyal as she promises to be.” And by loyal, he meant someone who’d protect Rhys from everyone but the one person paying her. His recent dalliances with the Vault Hunters, and an unsettled debt he had with them however gave him a bad reputation among possible candidates so he needed someone skilled but not allied with that despicable bunch.

“Speaking of which,” the president still sounded mildly vexed, regardless, he seemed to have left his moral dilemma for later and paced closer to his PA, “when Assquez found me, I wasn’t out for a lunch. I… Jack, you know, my paycheck finally came through and... “ the man was digging through his pockets, “wanted to thank you for your help and support. Especially before and during that meeting,” Rhys produced something long and atrociously red out of his pocket, “Still not gonna report you to the HR although, by god sometimes you don’t just overstep the line, you straight up trample all over it, but, figured I’d get you a new one, as a thank you and…”

Jack eyed his gift and a tie clip with Hyperion logo engraved on it with pure spite, “Keep it. I hate it.”

The crestfallen expression on his boss’ face made something fluffy and warm do a flip in Jack’s stomach but he kept a straight face, pointedly going back to staring at the datapad in his hands.

Rhys shuffled awkwardly in place, tried to say something but ultimately just returned to his desk, shoulders tense and tie gripped tight in his hand “I’ll leave it here if you ever change your mind.”


	2. Two pounds shy of a bomb

Despite a hefty raise, Rhys kept wearing Jack’s tie on an on and off basis and whenever he had it, it felt like a win. Even though he wasn’t sure what the prize was, it spoke to something possessive in him, the president walking around with a noose around his neck and a promise for Jack to one day pull it all the way through.

It brought nice dreams, dreams in which he strangled the life out of the kicking, struggling man until he didn’t do that anymore, still and unmoving. It also brought another type of dreams, ones in which Rhys wouldn't stop struggling, mouth slack in an obscene ‘o’ and a grind of his hips. He woke up from those sweating and hard, often distracted for the rest of the day and snapping at the man even more than usual. The duality didn’t bother Jack all that much although it did send him on an intranet crawl to discover that Rhys’ spacebook status was marked as ‘single’. Which was good, a failure like him didn’t deserve anyone’s interest. Certainly not Jack’s, so he spent his free time plotting and scheming in between poking his nose into everything the president did.

He even volunteered to teach his boss how to get that tie done, his hands inevitably drifting to the front pocket of his vest one too many times and raising suspicions. After that Rhys dedicated his own sparse free time to learning a lousy windsor from the echo net videos. He also kept a keener eye on his own garments. 

That was another thing that kept bothering the unfortunate assistant, whatever Rhys had on that drive of his, kept the board more or less pliant, indulging some of his more ridiculous requests. Although, there was only so far it could get them, the demands to have the situation sorted out were becoming more and more insistent.

Rhys’ recent failure, did not deter him in the least, the damage done to Hyperion’s infrastructure on the planet growing by the day, yet, the man still insisted on a fairly lenient attitude towards the opposition.  Which only led to the president losing the support of certain departments and higher ups. The revolution spread like a disease, people fleeing New Haven and taking the news to the nearby settlements, some of their own forces stationed down on the planet - defecting. It was a potent ground for Vasquez and his lackey to start digging around the underpinnings of Rhys’ position, questioning his every choice and decision.

Before long, Jack decided to take pity of the man, and save Rhys’ as well as his own career. 

“You’ve lost control of the situation kiddo,” Jack seated himself across from his boss who was nervously tugging at a stray thread on the cuff of his shirt.

“No need to remind me,” the man pulled the thread until a button started coming loose, Jack’s patience wearing thin and eventually prompting him to rest his hand over Rhys’ fidgety fingers.

“But the case isn’t lost, we’ve located the dickface leading this pathetic revolution. Goes by H.P.”

Rhys looked up from where his eyes were boring holes into the floor with something akin to a sliver of hope, “can we apprehend them? Will that stop the masses?”

“Cut off the snake’s head and the rest will die with it,” Jack shrugged his thumb running one last time over Rhys’ knuckles before he pulled back. “Problem is, a solid majority of our forces still answer to Vasquez, and yeah, we can go through the official channels but he’ll be throwing logs under our feet the whole time.”

“You sound like you have an idea how to avoid that though, don’t you, Jack?” the way his name rolled off of the president’s tongue carried so much trust Jack wasn’t sure he could see his plan through without giving into the temptation of breaking it preemptively. Rhys abandoned the thread in favour of picking up a pen, and started toying with it instead, each click and pass through the cybernetic fingers inching Jack closer to snatching it and driving it through the man’s flesh hand.

“I know a guy.” 

Click. Tap. Roll.

“Oh?”

“He’s a mercenary who has worked for me before.”

Click. Tap. Roll.

“What would the head of programming need a mercenary for?”

What would Hyperion’s president need two working hands for?

“Stuff and things, not really your business, kiddo.”

Click. Tap. Roll.

“I don’t feel comfortable working with someone outside of the company.”

“You won’t feel comfortable when they mount your head in the hub of heroism either.”

Click. Tap. Jack’s hand shot forward to pluck the pen from Rhys’ fingers, his whole body shaking with how hard he had to restrain himself. Bringing the pen up and closer to his boss’ face, he briefly considered forcing it into his eye socket but instead, gently, ever so gently, tapped it against the man’s nose. “All I need from you is a few signatures and an authorization to request a small force of our men. Vasquez won't even notice a couple of grunts sent down to Pandora and Wilhelm will lead them.” The tip of the pen trailed lower, tracing the jut of Rhys’ lower lip, over his chin and eventually coming to a rest just east of his tattoo, “let Jack help you out of the troubles you got yourself into,” en echo of a pulse traveled up the metal casing of the pen, up to Jack fingers all the way from where the opposite end moved with speeding up rise and fall of rhys’ main artery. 

He had noticed prior to now, that physical proximity worked like a sedative on the other man, his eyelids growing heavier, gaze fixed on Jack’s face and he couldn’t deny the power trip it would inevitably send him on each time. 

Now wasn’t an exception, the president freezing in his spot, his adam’s apple bobbing with an audible swallow before he eventually gave the tiniest of nods. That was more than enough to satisfy Jack for the time being, the man standing up from his spot, gears in his head already turning as he went over the list of things he needed to have arranged.

 

* * *

  
  


It took time, a bunch of favours called in and some good old fashioned intimidation to get his plan moving. Not to mention Rhys’ constant reluctance, countless hours spent on convincing him and talking the plan over and over again. With time however, Rhys, whether he wanted or not, was dragged deeper and deeper under Jack’s influence, resistance waning with the slowly warming up relations between the two of them. Or, as Jack liked to think, an illusion of it, his own contempt for the president as strong as it was the day he heard the news. 

But, it all lead to the here and now, the two of them leaning over an interactive map of frozen terrain, a live feed streaming from one of the screens and Rhys’ shoulders set in a tense line. The president was far from happy with Jack’s solution but with enough promises and sickly sweet words he let himself be swayed. Their intel said that the ever elusive HP was going to lead a cordon of refugees fleeing New Haven on a hijacked train, a small Hyperion force ready to set of the explosives that would derail both the train and the impromptu revolution. 

“Got a visual, Jack,” Wilhelm reported, his voice distorted and tinged with a metallic undertone, “staying cooped up up there? Weird for you not get down and dirty, eh?”

He could feel the questioning look Rhys was shooting him, and as much as he would have loved to join in on the carnage, the president was at his most vulnerable right now and he intended to milk the situation for all it was worth.

“I like it up here better.”

“Nish and ‘thena still after your ass? You know you could have just paid them…”

That had Jack’s hands curling into fists, he didn’t need to be reminded he had two idiot bandits actively gunning for him. They didn’t keep their end of the deal, bailing out on him the second he got distracted with the events on Helios and as such, he had very little intentions to pay them for their troubles, “shut up! If I wanted some tin box’s opinion I would have asked one of the claptraps! Just blow the freaking tracks up!”

Against his side, Rhys jerked in response to his violent outburst and the jarring grind of Wilhelms uproarious laughter.

“Whatever you say boss man!” 

The live feed trembled when the explosion tinted the sky a bloody shade of red, dust falling in speckles against the thick layer of, pristinely white snow. The cyborg lead the charge, Hyperion forces quickly rounding up the survivors, a rag tag group shaking themselves to death in the cold. 

“Bring me their leader.”

It didn’t take Wilhelm long to locate a screaming, kicking woman, her face, twisted with rage and a gruesome scar taking up the majority of the screen.

“Holy dangling shitstack, you lead that pathetic revolution of yours with a face like this?!” Jack couldn’t contain his cheerful giggles, “look at her Rhysie! Woah, just wo-ahh!” The petname slipped him unintentionally, but didn’t escape the man’s notice, Rhys muting the chanel for a couple of seconds.

“Behave yourself, remember what you are meant to represent. Stay quiet and let me handle it.” 

His first instinct was to snap back, before the steel in Rhys’ eyes made him snap his mouth shut instead, Jack grinding his teeth and swallowing back a string of rather elaborate invectives. Rhys returned the hard stare and a furrow of his eyebrows before turning his attention back to the screen.

“This is Hyperion’s president speaking, who are you?”

“Helena Pierce.”

“Pees” Jack mimicked her accent with glee only to be elbowed in the side by the other man.

“Ms. Pierce, if you surrender now and help us clean up this mess, any further violence can be avoided.”

It was Jack’s turn to hit mute, completely disregarding whatever the bandit had to say for herself, “that wasn’t the plan, have her executed now.” With his free hand, and barely holding onto last shreds of calmness, he nudged Rhys’ side before trailing his fingers higher to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Rhys’ ear. “Don’tcha be chickening out on me now, there’s too much riding on her death.” As deceptively composed as he seemed, internally Jack was as far from calm and understanding as he could get, fighting a losing battle against the restrains stopping him from snapping his boss’ neck right there and there, consequences be damned. “Don’t. You. Dare.” His voice dropped into something lower, real anger expanding in his chest, clouding his vision and nearly drowning out a disapproving hiss from his boss. “Sir,” Jack tacked on if only to stop this idiot from fucking everything up again.

“Sir? Jack? What should I do with her?” Wilhelm wasn’t the one to hesitate but the contradicting orders had him in a bit of a pinch.

“She’s unarmed Jack, if we can take her captive…”

That was enough for him, the time for debating was over and if they waited too long, they’d lose their grasp once again, Jack grabbing the other man by the front of his shirt to give him a solid shake, “think that would ever save you down there? Trust me, each and every one of them wouldn’t hesitate a second before gutting you! That’s Pandora for you kiddo, look what it’s done to our people, traitors and liars” and true to his words, amongst the survivors, a smudge of tattered black and red could be spotted, their forces, originally stationed in New Haven now finding themselves at the other end of Hyperion weapons, ”it’s kill or be killed, you bring her up here, she’s gonna poison more people, and the bandits down there? Oh, they don’t get to get that type of hope, you have to snub it out now!” He unmuted the channel, hand still fisted into Rhys’ clothing as he addressed the cyborg, “Wilhelm. She’s unarmed. Do something about it!”

The reaction was instantaneous, a small gun chucked at the woman’s face without any questions asked, Pierce struggling to catch the weapon in her surprise, “that better? Is she enough of a threat now? Come on fuck face, do what’s right!”

Rhys’ face was turning redder by a minute, the man looking like he was about to pass out from the pure intensity of Jack’s anger, a shaky breath straining in his chest before he turned his eyes towards the screen, “proceed with the mission objective.”

Although he looked dejected, Jack noticed - not without an ounce of pride - that the president’s voice didn’t waver. He wasn’t done with the man yet, not by a long shot. Rhys’ eyes were cast down as the soldiers began the execution, Pierce, the first to go, her head blown with a grotesque splash, but not the last one, explosive rounds tearing into the crowd.

“Oh no, no no, you don’t get to close your eyes now, you fucked up big times on this thing and it’s time for you to learn that there are real life consequences outside of your cozy little office this, this right here is what your job is all about,” Jack shoved the other man closer to the desk, forcing him chest down onto it so he could get nice and intimate with the screen and the close up transmission of snow soaked red, a small whimper pressed into the wooden finish “not the petty squabbles between you and Wallethead, not you trying to blackmail someone in the other corner of the galaxy. You’re gonna get your hands dirty, because they’re gonna send you down there sooner than you think,” by now he was nearly splayed on top of the other man, pinning him down with his bulk, fingers of one hand gripping the back of Rhys’ collar, all the while he had a fistful of his boss’ hair in the other. “Keep your eyes peeled cupcake, this is where, you not consulting your idiotic decisions with me, gets ya,” he hissed in the man’s ear “a red stain that will melt away with the snow in a couple days, that’s where you’d be without me,” and as the last body dropped, he gave him one last tug before stumbling back and heavily dropping onto that despicable chair.

After a short while, Rhys quietly dismissed the soldiers and stood up, leaning against the desk and running one hand over his sore neck, “...Jack…” followed by a disheartened look. There was something about it that just felt right on Rhys’ face, as if the downturned corners of his mouth and knitted eyebrows were meant to be there.

“I know,” Jack rubbed his chin before releasing a tired sigh, “I’m sorry kiddo,” he wasn’t, not in the least, “you know I had to do this.” And wanted. Very, very much wanted, “otherwise you won’t learn. Better I give you some rough lovin’ now than have them tear you fucking apart out there.”

The president still looked shell shocked, pale and with glassy eyes as he kept warily watching the other man, “...I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You did well, go get yourself a small pick me up, bet Tassiter kept something really fancy for occasions like that. You’ve earned that.”

Rhys seemed to need a couple more moments to compose himself, eventually dragging himself to the kitchenette and rummaging through the drawers, only to emerge with a glass and a bottle of whiskey seconds later.

“...’m not so sure about it. The regulations are pretty clear on drinking alcohol during working hours…” It was quite the skill, Jack thought, the kid had, that he could easily push away larger issues to the back of his head, focusing on something more menial just to spare himself a fight with his own consciousness. 

Regardless, that was another thing that drove Jack absolutely bonkers, his boss was still stuck in that middle manager mentality, even as he uncapped the bottle to take a cautionary sniff of the well aged liquor.

“I don’t know how it keeps escaping you,” Jack was back on his feet, trailing after the other man “but you gotta realize that now,” his hands settled heavily over Rhys’ forcing him to tip the bottle, amber liquid freely flowing into the glass, “you  _ are  _ the regulations.” He kept his gaze glued to Rhys’ face, even when the man’s eyes, fixed on their joined hands, grew wider as the whiskey approached a halfway point of the glass. Rhys might have been the regulations, but it was Jack who would write them down for him to enforce with time.

“Doesn’t feel right…” he could pick up on the hesitation in the president’s voice, Jack finally letting go of the bottle even as he didn’t let go of Rhys’ other hand, the knuckles of his flesh warm against the inside of Jack’s palm, their joined hands now cradling the glass. 

When he pulled, there was no resistance, Jack eventually bringing the tumbler to his own lips. A little nudge had them tilting it and he tasted the strong, bitter spirit, “...wrong. Feels more than just right…”trailing off, Jack’s low voice took on a more soothing undertone, words hanging in the small space between the two of them, mismatched eyes transfixed on his lips as he scooped the remaining few droplets from his lips.

“It’s still against…”

He had a feeling that by now, it wasn’t the alcohol Rhys kept refusing, caged between the counter and Jack’s body. 

“Then go ahead, fire me.”

Rhys wouldn’t they both knew that by now, pliant under his touch and not daring to break the eye contact as the rim pressed to his parted lips. A wince followed the sip Rhys took, shuddering breath resonating against Jack’s chest as the man completely surrendered himself to the situation, “atta boy, told ya it felt good.”

 

* * *

 

J ack wasn’t known for his patience, but then again, there were things that just couldn’t be rushed, no matter how much he wished for it to happen. Despite dealing with the root of the cause, the little uprising on Pandora hadn’t quite died with its leader, a permanent mark etched now into the political landscape of the planet. That however, did not seem to derail the plans already set in motions, a proverbial blood in the water only urging the waring companies to take action as the annual summit inched closer. And Jack, Jack hoped the summit could be used as a breaking point in his plans.

The board had other plans, still undecided as to who could prove a suitable puppet to put on the Hyperion throne. Between the current president, a, seemingly, fool with an apparent penchant for violence as word had it these days and the scheming chief operations officer who had poured countless hours and resources into getting where he was without any regret. A fool as well, as far as the board was concerned. Both of them had to face the backlash after Pierce’s little rebellion, but only one received some sort of begrudging praise for moping it up the best he could. As far as the people at the top of Hyperion food chain were concerned, there was only one way to solve it. In a true Hyperion manner - throwing both men to the skags and then just scooping the exhausted winner to mold and shape however the board felt suited.

 

* * *

 

“I know Pandora’s scary, but you’re not going in there alone,” Jack’s statement didn’t seem to impress his boss. Perhaps his words would have been more convincing if he didn’t have him strapped with metal bands keeping both wrist tied to the arms of a new, fancy yellow chair. Jack’s courtesy of course, and a result of a couple ‘accidents’ that may or may not have been his fault leading to a near complete destruction of that old ugly thing Tassiter liked to call his office chair. Which may or may not have involved a knife, a coffee spiked with strong acid and a few hissy fits he had recently thrown. Worth it though.

“Of course I’m not! It was hard to miss the memo that Vasquez is gonna be there as well. And seriously?” Rhys’ eyes pointed to his shackles just before he tried jerking away from Jack’s touch, “is that really necessary or just one of your weird kinks?”

“I’m not talking about Vas...oh stop it with with all the squirming!” a light clip around the ear, to Jack’s absolute surprise, didn’t calm the president down at all.

“I can sit still. If you could only tell me what you’re up to this time…” Rhys’ words were slightly muffled, mumbled around the pout and around the hand keeping him by the chin in place.

“You sure ‘bout that kitten?” A surprised yelp and a violent jerk were his only answer, Jack’s fingers digging into the soft curve of Rhys’ chin as he poked deeper into the port at his temple, a few errant sparks flying. “Listen,” he continued in a conversatory manner, little concern paid to the grimace on the other man’s face, “this summit right? Kinda big deal, all of the big fish are gonna be there. And I’m talking the biggest damn fish you’ve ever seen, freakin’ whales of this business! ” Jack ignored the indignant muttering about the contradictions in his statement in favor of finally releasing the protective latches of the port, “Maliwan, Torgue, even goddamned Dahl, you’ll have to deal with all them, not to mention wallethead on top of that, but you, captain,” a pointed tap to Rhys’ cybernetic arm had the man carefully peeling his eyes open, “are bringing more than just one crappy ship to take that Moby Dick down!”

“Oh yeah? And what that might be? Far as I recall, Atlas made it a strict no firearms policy, and only one bodyguard per representative.” Eyes cast downwards, Rhys seemed to be struggling between letting his angry words fly free and trying not to get too much on Jack’s nerves, most likely afraid of what he could do to him in this vulnerable position the president has found himself in, “I can’t even take you with me... what am I supposed to do? Talk Assquez to death or straight up tear his face off with my bare hands?” 

“Love the initiative,” Jack nudged the chair until it spun around for Rhys to face him, his nose wrinkling when Jack leaned closer, “but maybe not this time.”

There was a reason, because there always is one, to their sudden proximity, Jack thoroughly enjoying the clear discomfort on his boss’ face up close as he finally managed to force the portable drive into the slot at his temple. A crooked smirk crossed his face just before he moved back to rest against the desk with little respect for the status it represented. “But who said you can’t bring the biggest guns to the table… _ Rhysie.” _ The last word, quieter than the previous ones, and spoken into a small microphone cradled in Jack’s palm, must have sounded like a thunder to the only receiver of the broadcast, Rhys jumping in the chair and wildly rolling his eye around, “ _ And by that, of course, I mean your favourite PA. _ ”

“What? How? It’s like you’re inside my head!” 

“That’s because I partially am, sorta, or maybe only wishful thinking on my, your part...err, whichever of these answers is gonna make you feel more uncomfortable,” with a shrug, Jack turned around to face the screen of his computer, currently residing on Rhys’ desk, “that’s not all this little upgrade of mine can do.” Bringing up the other end of the connection on the monitor, the video feed flickered to life, a very pleasing sight taking up the majority of the display, “oh jeez, pumpkin, you’re making this awkward, not that I can blame you, my ass is fantastic but stop staring.” The video swerved wildy, Jack losing any interest in it as he tilted the screen towards his -currently thrashing in his restraints- boss.  

Coming to a surprised still, Rhys stared at the now multiplied image of Jack’s laptop, before he finally gathered his wits about himself, tongue briefly flicking to wet his lips, “is the connection untraceable?”

“Untraceable, undetectable, you name it, i’ve already un-ed it.” Jack’s smile could nearly split his face in half, the man as proud of his work as he was pleased with the quick change in Rhys’ attitude. “You go down there kitten on your own but you’re gonna have all the support you need, all the dirt we’ve ever dug up about those assholes, and of course, access to all of my brilliant ideas.”

“That’s...quite amazing,” Rhys cleared his throat, sounding almost as if the words were physically painful to get out.

“ _Sure is,_ _sir”_ a barely there shudder shot up the other man’s frame, Jack’s voice snuggly making itself at home in his brain. Back in Rhys’ personal bubble, Jack was quite enjoying his boss’ hapless state. There was nowhere to run from the finger tracing up the man’s arm, nor from the shark-like grin. Given how easy it was to trick the man into falling for this particular trap, Jack was starting to formulate a new plan. Perhaps he didn’t need to dispose of this little menace, perhaps, if he could only get him to the top, a few more upgrades, preferably long, hard and mostly metal, would make him a pliant doll for Jack to play with and steer about however he liked. Then again, they were nearly there, all he needed was to get rid of the human unpredictability factor, ensure that Rhys would have no way of betraying him for his own pathetic little goals.

Jack quickly dismissed the thought, keeping the president alive meant attachment and that was one thing he didn’t do. 

“You better go get your best duds pressed and ready, your shuttle for Pandora leaves in the morning.” With a patronizing pat to the man’s cheek and tone a degree colder and harder than it strictly needed to be, Jack went about packing his stuff, ready to leave and get himself ready as well for the big day.

“Hey, hey!” Rhys’ yelling caught him close to the exit, Jack pausing without even bothering to turn around, “aren’t you forgetting something?” The clattering and the annoyed huffs most likely meant that his boss went back to his futile attempt at freeing himself from the restraints.

“No, don’t think so, _ asshole,”  _ a shrug was all he felt like offering before starting for the door again.

“Get your damned BDSM gear off of me! And I’ve heard that! Respect! We’ve been over that already!”

“Sorry boss, wrong number!”

 

* * *

 

For maybe less than a split of a second, Jack considered buzzing the doorbell to Rhys’ inherited apartament. He still however had the pass codes and the hacking program he ‘mysteriously’ came by back in the day. And boy did he once have plans for this place. Still had in fact. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. 

As things were right now however, without shame or reservations, he let himself in, already feeling at home, marching in and surrounded by the unmistakable air of, soon to be as it happened and Jack hoped, ownership. 

“Wake up dweeb, and get your ass in gear!” His voice boomed through the fairly empty and devoid of any personal touch corridors, eventually luring a very sleepy and disheveled president out of, what Jack assumed, must have been the bedroom.

“What? Did I oversleep? And how did you get in?”

“Good morning to you too boss,” with a bit too much force, a paper cup with coffee landed on the nearby counter. The more Rhys squinted his eyes in discomfort the louder and perkier Jack’s voice grew, “and yes, you did, there’s been a change of plans and you need to leave earlier, you can thank me later for catching a wind of that, Atlas moved the venue from Opportunity to some shitty ass second class dome. Claim it’s better protected given how their merry band of mercs has recently been breaking their teeth on some loose canon assassin. Bull fucking shit if you ask me, they’re up to something I know.” 

With a crooked smirk, he kept urging the other man to keep moving, Jack already poking his head into the walk in closet, it’s content...less than impressive but he could easily spot a brand new suit waiting there, “as for your last question,” he turned around with a randomly picked pair of socks, the garment immediately chucked Rhys’ way, “I’m your PA, and that covers all kinds of skills, everything from murder, making sure you don’t forget to sign your dumb paperwork, all the way to, if need be, finding my way into your underwear, now, chop chop,” diving back into the closet, Jack went about digging through the drawer with said underwear, a few appreciative noises sounding in the vast space whenever he stumbled across something he found to his liking, “you’ve got half an hour, your new bodyguard is already waiting.”

Rhys looked like he wanted to protest, all fluffed up, with arms across his chest, quite far from imposing -in what apparently passed for his sleep wear- in Jack’s opinion, regardless, after some huffing and puffing he actually started getting ready. 

“And who’s that? Someone we trust? And, stop it, I can deal with my hair myself.”

“Trust? Oh no, no kitten,” Jack tossed the hairbrush he has currently armed himself in before catching it again and pointing towards his boss, “wouldn’t even trust that she's given us her real name. A little thieving bandit from Pandora, but, she’s local, crafty and willing to do everything as long as she gets paid, so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it.” Most importantly, she wasn’t affiliated with the Vault Hunters, despite her apparent grudge against the company itself. 

“Local? Why can’t I get someone Hyperion? At least you know they’ve been trained well. Or even if I could get a Loader Bot, they don’t talk much, high customizability, good aim can’t see that being a bad idea.”

“You don’t get one because you don’t get one, period,” with a sigh, Jack dropped himself onto the edge of the far too large bed, carefully taking a sip of the coffee he brought with himself, eyes freely roaming over the man trying to get some privacy in his own apartment, “and yeah, local, because Wallethead also has one, or so my sources claim, and that can’t be good.”

Some struggling, a squabble over the colour of Rhys’ pocket square and one more coffee later, they were down in the docks, a whistle escaping the other man when he spotted a brand new, polished to the nines ship parked there.

“Before you get your panties in a twist boss, Vasquez snatched this baby right from under my nose, little shit had it booked way before they announced you two are going to the summit. My guess is that someone tipped him off.”

The crestfallen expression on Rhys’ face instantly lightened Jack’s mood, even though it got soured again right away once the woman they had been waiting for approached them. At least, compared to the last time he had seen her, she looked a bit more presentable in a Hyperion branded suit.

“That the man baby you want me to babysit?” the immediate dislike between the two was nearly palpable, Rhys’ rant about how he was going to make Vasquez pay cut part way through. 

“Don’t tell me that’s my bodyguard,” he hissed into Jack’s ear before plastering a very fake smile over his face, one hand extended towards the woman, “pleasure meeting you, I’m Rhys, looking forward to work…”

“Don’t care, you’re just some ten million dollar guy to me…”

“...if he survives,” Jack interjected and followed it with an obnoxious wink, “sir, meet Fiona, the best money can buy on Pandora.” Personally, he thought she was overpriced and most likely a con, but then again, it wasn’t his money he was oh so happily wasting. And if they both got caught in the crossfire down there, you can’t really blame him, can you? Jack did try his best. As always.

It didn’t look like their partnership was going to be easy, something Jack didn’t particularly care about, just as he didn’t give two shits about the horrified screech that followed shortly. 

Well, he did tell her to bring her own ride, and it seemed Rhys wasn’t a fan of it.

 

* * *

 

Back in the safety of the office, with a single sweep, he knocked down the content of Rhys’ desk, replacing it with his own equipment. Jack brought a couple computers, some extra screens and enough snacks to last him the day. For now, he simply muted the retching sounds coming from Rhys’ end and made himself comfortable. Finally he was exactly where he belonged, temporary as it was. As the repurposed caravan was launched towards the unforgiving surface of Pandora, Jack stayed occupied organising all the files in his ‘Jack-o-pedia of dirt’ he had on the attendants of the summit - mostly for ease of access and just to stay busy instead of fuming how he was once again denied presence at the event.

Two hours later he finally decided to check if the two reached their destination in one piece, which, unfortunately they did, only to catch Rhys in the middle of an argument with the security at the Atlas dome.

“...no, I cannot remove it, it’s literally wired to my brain…” Jack snickered, remotely activating the man’s echo eye to scan the nearest vicinity. To his side, Fiona was being searched, moving slightly awkwardly, hands up in the air and taking a few spins with way too innocent of a smile. Could fool an untrained eye, but not Jack and not the cutting edge technology of the eye, “ _ she’s gotta gun cupcake _ , _ nice! _ ” 

And she has just smuggled it in, a small thing nestled in her sleeve, skillfully hidden from the full body search officer and their scanner. He had to give it to her, that was a neat stunt and the weapon was bound to come in handy if his suspicions were to be proven right. 

“...what? Where? No, no I’m not talking to you, just let me through...oh, ouch, geez Fiona you don’t need to tug me about like that,” Rhys kept rambling, whether to Jack, his bodyguard or Atlas security, he didn’t really care.

“ _ Somewhere safe, you don’t need to worry about it, as long as she doesn’t use it to shoot your head off _ ,” followed by a mean chuckle.

The event started, with rivers of overpriced champagne this crowd of pompous pricks didn’t deserve and Rhys doing his best to mingle, bumbling his way through one or another conversation and shadowed by the so far quiet Fiona. Mostly thanks to Jack’s amazing social skills and the intel he has collected, the man avoided any grave faux pas that could potentially ruin the company’s image. The first part was nearly over, almost every representative done with their short little speeches, all Rhys needed to survive were hors d'oeuvre and then the main point of the event, the negotiations. So far the companies were tentatively trying to cop a feel as to where their rivals were at.

Throughout the evening, he seeped the right phrases and bits of information into Rhys’ ear, made sure the man wouldn’t get too much alcohol in him and navigated him through the complicated intricacies of the intercompany relations. Say this, promise her that, now, get a snack, no, not this one you idiot, the other one, bow, smile, don’t smile, overall, it was quite a lot of fun, especially with Rhys so dependent on him, too scared so far away from home to disobey. That is, until he had managed to run into the second biggest moron of the night...

“Vasquez…” Rhys’ spiteful voice crackled through the speakers, “I can see you’re feeling quite at home in this pit of vipers, too bad it won’t last.”

“Ah, but mister president, why would you be wasting your precious time on the good ole’ me instead of enjoying your one and only chance at getting a lick of some real luxury? You do know this champagne is worth more than all your salaries so far combined? And most definitely more than your life...” they both spoke fairly quietly, little attention paid to the presentation of Torgue’s new line, explosives, which didn’t surprised anyone, “hope you’re ready for the negotiations, heard the board would be really upset if we didn’t get that deal with Dahl…”

As much as Jack enjoyed listening to their little back and forth, he was also actively recording every shouted word coming from the podium and worked on formulating a plan how to have Rhys snatch that deal before Vasquez could get his grubby hands on the Dahl representative. There was a lot of rumours circulating about the woman currently in charge of the company, Jack ears deep in all the files he had on her, looking for something that could either provide some leverage or blackmail material. Perhaps because of that, he, at first, didn’t pay any attention to the racket coming from the speakers, assuming that it must have been Torgue giving a little bit more hands on presentation of his product.

It wasn’t until he caught his boss’ pained yelp that his attention wandered back to the screen streaming visuals from Rhys’ eye - obscured by smoke but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a touch of infrared vision, “ _ you alive there Rhysie?”  _

Jack hated the tinge of worry marring his words, something he didn’t intend on letting slip. Perhaps a bit more understandable since he still would have prefered to deal with the president himself.

“Yeah, yeah, just a little banged about, what happened?”

“ _ You tell me, _ ” the scan revealed people around them slowly trying to get their bearings, some still apparently stunned after the explosion, some unmoving on the ground. They could just about make a couple figures, apparently untouched and perfectly fine making their way towards them,  _ “stay low. _ ”

“Stay low Hyperion, you’re no use to me if you die here now,” Fiona’s voice cut through, the woman apparently giving Rhys a shove judging by the suddenly jerking display, “that was no accident.”

“I know!” This time the president had to scream through the sirens that have just about decided to start blaring.

“Well, well, well,” as the smoke cleared, Vasquez’ sleazy smile came into view, the man now armed in what happened to be the largest, most obnoxious gun Hyperion manufactured, “looks like there won’t be any negotiations.” 

He was accompanied by his equally sleazy looking bodyguard, and both Dahl, as well as Atlas, representatives. “Keep an eye on him momma’s boy, bet little shit has something up his sleeve. Unless you were dumb enough to come completely defenseless, huh Rhys? No one told you about the unofficial game we play here, right? Ladies? Gentlemen?” 

Both representatives pulled out their own weapons. 

“ _ They must have had them digistruck on site,”  _ Jack was frantically rewinding the video feed from the security check, “ _ no way they could have managed to sneak anything in, not something this large, god damn it, they knew there was gonna be two of you, Vasquez was one step ahead of you this whole time… _ ” 

Driven by anger and disappointment, Jack smashed one of the nearest data pads, cursing both internally and externally. Rhys might just as well have already been a lost cause, Atlas drones swarming in and training their mounted turrets on the two captives. If only Jack could be down there instead of Fiona, he’d figure it out, no doubts about it, he would just lurch forward and twist Vasquez’ idiotic head clean off and… 

“We call it the hunting game…” the man continued, obviously pleased with himself, “some of us got a head start, but hey, I’m not complaining, they get to get their hands on you and all of the intel you have in that fancy cybernetics of yours, and I, well, I get the deal. And some overdue payback,  _ president _ .”

That, that probably was even worse than Jack had anticipated, Vasquez didn’t know about all the blackmail material Rhys had on the board and if that were to fall into other companies’ hands, Hyperion would most likely be done for. “ _ Where’s that stupid bodyguard of yours? Get up idiot, you’re not going down on your back. Move Rhysie, move!” _

“Vasquez! You don’t want to do that! The board won’t let it slide!”

Flicking through the different eye frequencies, Jack kept frantically scanning the surroundings, hoping that Rhys’ little outburst would stall their adversaries as he looked for something he could sink his digital claws in, something he could hack and maybe save his little asset. Problem was, he could see and he could stream his voice, but anything beyond that was gate locked by the anti-hacking firewall in Rhys’ cybernetics. The view swerved, the president obviously struggling to his feet, momentarily obscured by a silhouette coming into the center, thankfully positioning herself between Rhys and the direct line of fire, at least she would soak up the first round of bullets if they opened fire.

“Fiona!” 

“Shut up,” the woman had her gun pointed at… no, not at Vasquez or anyone truly important but at one of the bodyguards. Young kid with more piercings than brains, “August! Where’s Sasha?” The heavy drop of betrayal spread through Jack’s guts like molten lead, sending an involuntary shake through his body.  Pandoran scum, should have known better than to trust her with Rhys. 

“August? You know her? And where did she get that stupid gun from?” Vasquez sounded as surprised as the rest of them.

“I do, recognized her the second she walked in. This ends here _ Fi _ , you’ve got what I need, give it up and I won’t make your sister suffer!”

Jack could see the woman backing closer towards his boss, a barely audible hiss coming from him as her quiet words reached them, “ten million dollars, you trust me on this one, I can get you out, I might have taken this job only to get closer to this fool but we can help each other…”

Rage burning inside of him was nearly blinding, Jack slamming his hands against the desk, “ _ don’t you dare, she’s got no plan, come on boss, give me access to your cybernetics. I can do it!”  _ Jack was certain, he knew he could turn the situation around, get Vasquez, Dahl and the rest of these traitors in one fell swoop. 

“Rhys!” Fiona had one hand extended towards him, the gun trained on the group in front of them, “you won’t make it on your own, I’m right here and I can do this!”

“ _ Come on Rhysie, I’ve always got your back!” _


	3. A Romance with Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaand we've made it to the end, thanks for sticking around and hope you've enjoyed the ride.  
> Please shoot me a comment if you did c:

The once pristinely polished ship heavily rolled into the dock, a stray thruster hitting the floor before the rest of it could land. It was scorched with fire in some places, The Hyperion logo nearly burnt off where the flames licked too close to the engine and the plating was flaking off around the main hull.

Compared to the immaculately dressed Hugo Vasquez and his smarmy smile, that boarded the spaceship this morning, the two people stumbling out of it look like they had been made to fight their way through a bandit encampment. 

The President was missing one shoe, hair out of place and eyes wide as he keeled over the second he touched Helios’ floor. Watching from the safety of the office, Jack idly sent for janitorial crew to mop up the mess Rhys was currently making. Well, he did tell him to avoid the snapping eels caviar.

The bodyguard, Fiona, Jack recalled with hardly any interest, was holding much better, her hat, singed around the brim clutched in her hand. She gave a pat to Rhys’ shoulder and Jack went nearly blind with a sudden spike of anger. Filthy bandit, well, she was headed straight for the detention.  
Rhys however, oh he’d make sure the man was going to be escorted straight to the office before he made even more of a fool of himself.

By the time the guards dragged the still mildly green in the face man to drop him off in the President’s office, Jack was nervously pacing around the desk, mind going over and over the events of the past couple hours. He seriously hoped Rhys already had a thank you speech planned or else he was going to make him pay. Because Jack, Jack never went out of his way to help anyone but himself, and Rhys had made him endanger a lot of his carefully laid out plans. Well, he supposed, if one wanted to be a hero, certain sacrifices had to be made.

To his surprise, the second Rhys saw him however, the man straightened up, wiped a stray string of drool from his chin and pretty much power walked up to him. 

“What the fuck Jack? Have you completely lost your mind?” There was a snarl curling Rhys’ perfectly plush lips, Jack vaguely concerned as to where did that particular sentiment came from. 

“Whatcha mean pumpkin? Thought you’d be more ‘ahh Jack, I’m eternally grateful for saving my stupid scrawny ass, here, take this raise, oh hell, even take the company you are so much better fit for this position! I will now forever demote myself to kissing your boots!” Ask Jack and he’d tell you he perfectly nailed Rhys’ high pitch.

Sickly green turned to furious red as Rhys pushed past him, instantly going for ruffling through the datapads scattered across his desk. 

“Don’t even try that on me, you have not only nearly started a full on inter corporate warfare, that…” he grabbed a half eaten pack of pretzels, crumbled it in his hands and aimed for the nearby trash can. Missed, of course, just as he was currently missing with his misplaced anger. It wasn’t Jack’s fault things went south, you know, “...that I could have forgiven, they had it coming, those bastards but…” Rhys paused again, shuffled through the pads some more before finding the one he needed, one still linked to one of the computers, “...but this Jack?” The pad was waved right into his face and Jack internally ‘ahh’d. Well, it was a little breach of his clearance but desperate times called for desperate measures. “How did you get your hands on it anyway? When you hacked into the Atlas drones so easily… I wanted to believe it was because you are a genius programmer,” excuse you? Of course Jack was a brilliant genius, just that the genius occasionally needed a top secret hacking system. “...Atlas will figure out their security was compromised, that our moles have stolen bits and pieces of their guard AI software, that we have written a counter program… how did you even find out about it?”

Jack knew a lot of things that certain departments at Hyperion kept secret, reporting only to the highest ranking officers. Ones Jack, sadly, wasn’t a part of. His reply was an annoyed shrug, “told ya this morning, my job is to know things. And know when to use them.”

Rhys’ lips drew into a narrow line, “well if you hadn’t gone all ‘Hyperion sends their regards’ when you took over the sound systems as you mowed down those who couldn’t escape in time, at least this could have been blamed on Atlas’ incompetence. Their AI going rogue, something, I don’t know, how badly do you need to show off every time you do anything?” Rhys let out a tired sigh and eventually dropped himself into his chair. His clothes still caked with Vasquez's blood left dirty streaks on Jack’s abandoned sweater. He only half minded, after all, watching that gilded pig squirm around as he clutched the stump of his arm was all kinds of hilarious. Jack however, was absolutely petty enough to reroute some of the reparations Hyperion would undoubtedly sent to the dearly departed Hugo’s family, to his own bank account to cover for the dry cleaning. 

“Don’t like people stealing my credit, whether you want it or not, it was one hell of a show of dominance and they will think twice before making another attempt at your life.”

“Atlas? Yeah, maybe,” Rhys wrapped both arms around his middle, the adrenaline of the fight and the flight finally wearing off, “Maliwan, Dahl and the rest? Most likely. But the board will have my head for that. Who even authorised this software so early in its development stage? It was like clearance level 18 or something, even if you got your hands on the script, the systems shouldn’t have let you run it.”

With a sharks smile, Jack paced closer, perched himself on the edge of the desk, right in front of the other man, and reached out to comb his fingers through the mess sat atop Rhys’ head. It was tangled in little knots, stray pieces of gore and debris clinging to it.

“Who else but the President himself, pumpkin,” his smile deepened a few degrees as Jack uncurled his other hand, a band snuggly sat around his wrist and extending over the inside of his palm, an intricate network of wires and circuitry curling around a circular projector right in the middle of it. Once prompted, it digistruck a perfect copy of Rhys’ own palm, slightly enlarged to accommodate for the difference in the size of their respective hands, “didn’t realize before that that you’ve got such dainty little hands, eh?”

Rhys’ face went through various stages outrage, eventually settling on scandalized fury, “I could have you executed for that,” the man hissed.

“But you won’t,” leaning closer, Jack’s hand drifted lower, to the burning red cheek, grime and dust a layer in between the skin to skin contact, “because without me, without what I have done, for you by the way, you would have been dead meat down there. Torn to pieces and left to the skags princess.” As always, Rhys froze under the touch, eyes tipping from angry to uncertain in an instant, “there ain’t nobody who can take care of you as well as I do…”

“Though that’s why you got me a bodyguard for..” even in a huff like right now, Rhys still pouted, the lightest of shivers running through his body and echoing against the center of Jack’s palm, “where’s Fiona anyway?”

“What does it matter Rhysie?” as much as Rhys did his best to avoid Jack’s gaze, Jack couldn’t tear his eyes from the other man’s face, struggling to piece together the emotions flitting across it, “she’s a filthy bandit, lied to us, tried to use you for her own gain…” the irony of the situation felt like a bitter pill they both needed to swallow but his thumb brushing over one flushed cheek eased it down, till it could settle in Rhys’ heart and take roots there. The man closed his eyes and swallowed, swallowing the proverbial cyanide of Jack’s words.  
  
“Her sister Jack,” Rhys had long given up on struggling but some remnants of ...what?... compassion? Jack wasn’t sure, taking a wild guess here. Infatuation maybe? He could feel his lips curling into a snarl until Rhys finished his sentence, “it’s not a coincidence they got tangled up with that August guy and Assquez. The idiot was trying to get his sleazy paws on a Vault Key.”

That, that really had his attention and Rhys must have realized it judging by the way his eyes lit up and he leaned into Jack. “Vault key, huh? You even know what to do with one kitten?” Rhys nodded, finally meeting Jack’s gaze, “that’s why you insisted on bringing her back, huh?” Another nod and Jack honestly though he could kiss the man, finally letting go of the kid in favor of punching in a secure line connection to the holding cells, “get me the detainee.”

“Detainee?” Rhys’ good mood evaporated in under a second, “seriously?”

“Yes. She put you in danger, I don’t care about her intentions, you can’t relax around those Pandoran bandits kitten.”

Through the static came the woman’s voice, “what do you want you lying Hyperion scumbag?” She was positively screaming.

“Shut up hat girl,” Jack snarled in return, turning his attention to the echo messenger, “here’s your way out. You give us that vault key and I won’t have you executed like the con you are.”

He could positively hear the gears in her head turning, “the vault key, huh?” Jack didn’t like the way her voice quivered around the word, like there was more to the story, like there was a secret strung to it, “you’d have to top Hugo’s offer.”

“How about your life?”

“How about you pay me for the job first, help me get Sasha back from that idiot and I’ll take the price down to a half?” She had the balls to haggle, Jack’s vision turning red but before he could reply, Rhys, in his infinite idiocy decided to chime in.

“How much did Vasquez offer?”

Her answer made Jack stifle a chuckle, it was quickly becoming obvious she had no idea how valuable the artifact she possessed was. The price was laughable.

“That’s a lot but alright,” so did Rhys apparently, turning over the offer in his head, his stupid little brain struggling to comprehend he had Hyperion’s full wealth at his disposal and the 10 millions the woman demanded was basically chump change around here.

“We can give you 4 million and a loader bot to assist with your dumb rescue mission.” Jack smiled into the comm even though it was voice only, his hand coming up to rest on Rhys’ shoulder to stop the man from saying anything stupid.

“4 and a half and I want that cretin of a President as a bargaining chip as well, the key is rigged with explosives…” before she could continue, Jack’s fist collided with the surface of the desk.

“Do you have _any_  idea how rare Vault keys are you crazy psycho?! You even think of blowing it up I’ll make sure your, your sister’s and that what’shisname September guy’s brain join it!” Jack was quickly losing his patience, nearly snarling. If he could get his hands on a Vault Key, so many things would change, a brand new shot at everything, a stepping stone he was lacking to kick off of and finally reach for the top. The very thought of losing what he by now had already declared as his making him shake with hardly contained anger.

“I do in fact, that’s why I want him down there with me. August thinks with his fists but even he wouldn’t be as stupid as to go against Hyperion. And that little twerp really showed everyone who’s the boss around here down there with the Atlas drones.” It was like she fully knew which buttons to push to turn Jack’s anger into full blown rage.

“Take your friggin’ 5 million dollars but I’m coming along, there’s no way I’m letting you two fuck it up!” Which got him an incredulous hiss from the president, not that Jack really cared in particular.

 

* * *

 

Jack stared at his reflection in a large mirror, fiddling with his cuffs and running his hand one last time through his perfectly styled hair.  
His black and gold outfit was near flawless except it felt like something was still missing, something to cinch the whole outfit and make him stand out in the sea of all those corporate assholes. And today, Jack really wanted to look his best, finally getting to see one of his little schemes come to fruition. While the matter of the Vault Key was still unresolved, the fallout from that unfortunate summit forced the board’s hand to elect the CEO, and someone to replace Wallethead. While Jack had a pretty solid idea who was the strongest candidate for the former position, after all, he carefully took care of any of Rhys’ potential rivals, whoever would be chosen to take over the latter position, surely was going to shake the status quo at the top of the company.

Shooting himself one last once-over and winking at his reflection, Jack headed out and to the President’s office.

 

* * *

 

“The tie really suits you,” Rhys had an overly pleased smile on his face, his fingers sliding down the silky material ringing Jack’s neck and disappearing into the dip of his vest. Putting on Rhys’ once discarded gift felt like having a leash and collar on clear display but if it was going to be their winning night, Jack wanted to make sure everybody knew where his allegiance laid. He might have been the one on the collar end of this leash but really, who was doing the tugging here anyway?

Regardless, he only grunted in reply, his own hands smoothing out the lapels of Rhys’ suit one last time. They were tucked away from the public’s eye behind a drapery and down the stairs leading up to the back entrance to the podium taking up the majority of one of the sides of a gigantic banquet room. Filled to the brim with the most influential people on Helios just like the backstage was buzzing with hordes of assistants and secretaries and potential candidates. The board’s representative was about to announce the latest promotions and demotions. 

“You've got your speech ready cupcake?” While Jack refused to act as Rhys’ secretary just as he refused to act as the man’s PA, he still had his paws elbows deep in the speech the PR scripted for the president. Jack simply didn’t think Rothstein could make it as heroic and inspiring as it should have been. Even more so after his suggestion to begin the speech with ‘you mongrels’ was dismissed.

“I do,” Rhys shuffled through a couple of wrinkled sheets of paper, “both of them in fact. In case I do get that promotion and …” 

That earned him a scoff from Jack and a brief struggle as the man wrestled one of the scripts from his hands and threw the balled up paper away with little care, “come on, you won’t need the other one. Today is the day we both worked so hard on, no reason to think it won’t pay off.”

He was pep talking Rhys as much as he was doing it for himself but Jack lived his life with a deep conviction that enough bravado and confidence could get one to Elpis and back.

Before he could go on another tangent how hard _he_ worked on Rhys’ promotion and how no one seemed to show him the well deserved gratitude, Rhys was being called forward by one of the assistants, the man instantly turning pale.

With a ‘don’t screw it’ and a hardly discreet pat to Rhys’ boney ass, Jack watched the soon to be CEO walk up the stairs and to the stage. That was his cue to slip away and join the crowd gathered in front of the podium. They had an agreement, him and Rhys, that should the man start stuttering or making a fool of himself, Jack would be out there for him, a familiar face he could focus on and instead of delivering his speech to a spiteful, backstabbing crowd, this would turn into a private show. 

“...and now, after a long, careful consideration, for the position of the new acting CEO, the board had decided to elect…. Rhys Bryce!”

Jack internally fuck yeah’d, doing his best to keep his face stoic as he met Blake’s gaze across the room. It felt great to finally win.

Rhys was doing pretty good, sticking to the script, stormy eyes they worked so hard on achieving sweeping through the crowd. That however, could only last so long, his gaze and voice wavering when his eyes scanned over Jack’s face. Which got him a glare from the man but instead of obediently going back to reciting the words Jack wrote for him, his face melted into a softer expression. 

“...and I wouldn’t have made it this far,” Rhys kept talking into the microphone but he had veered off the script about a sentence ago and Jack felt like he was about to faint from the incoming second hand embarrassment. And that said a lot since on a whole, he didn’t do this whole empathy crap, “....without my team that supported my every step,” even from all the way deep in the crowd Jack could spot the telltale flicker in Rhys’ echo eye. What was that moron even attempting to hack? “In particular, my personal assistant who offered tremendous…” the answer was the limelights, one of the spotlights sweeping over the crowd and centering on Jack. He wasn’t listening to what Rhys was saying anymore, eyes wild and wide, focused on Rhys’ hand reaching out to him and the crowd parting before him. It wasn’t like Jack hadn’t dreamt of a situation like this, maybe with less Rhys in it, but the begrudging recognition of all those stuck up fuckers, the near fearful respect when they let him through, Jack’s hands balled into fists and shoulders squared, it has always been there. He just didn’t anticipate it if certainly hoped for so soon, not right now, not with Rhys still in the picture, fighting the unexpected sensation of feeling caged with so many eyes focused on him. He didn’t expect Rhys’ grip to be this strong and sure either, when the man crouched at the edge of the podium and helped Jack up, flesh hand to flesh as he hauled him up and to his side. 

 

* * *

 

Jack took a careful sip from his flute of champagne, throat still dry from the long speech he had indulged into the second he got his paws on the microphone, right after elbowing Rhys out of the way.  
  
Even the smug smirk Blake graced him with as he was announced the next COO to take after Vasqueze couldn’t spoil Jack’s good mood. He was fine, with Blake getting sloppy seconds, because that particular promotion set an unexpected precedence and surely added those couple more cornerstones to the career path Jack was paving for himself. Who said same couldn’t and wouldn’t now happen to the current CEO’s personal assistant. After all, everything Jeffrey Blake did, Jack could do better.  
His attention however was drawn away from his idle musing when he spotted a figure slipping away from the crowd, a very particular figure, tall, slender, fumbling all night through the social intricacies of the Hyperion creme de la creme, and one Jack has avidly been eyeing all evening.  
  
With what was left of the champagne warming him from the inside out forfeited, Jack followed, eventually managing to catch up to the CEO.  
“Leaving so soon princess? Careful, you might lose your glass slipper.”  
  
Rhys visibly jumped, caught red handed and turning around to face him with an embarrassed shade of red across his face, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck - something Jack found equally annoying as tempting, dreaming in the privacy of his own bedroom, of replacing it with his own hand as he forced the man’s head deeper over his cock.  
  
“Does that make /you/ the slipper in this scenario?” Jack had to shake his head, pulled back from his daydreaming, “because I’ve been trying to lose it the whole night but it seems to be stuck to me permanently.”  
  
“Careful,” Jack warned, stalking closer till he was positioned between Rhys and his escape route down the narrow corridor, “one too many awful jokes and I’ll think you’re flirting with me…”  
  
Just as expected, the closer he got, the more Rhys balked, bravado escaping him with a sigh just as Jack leaned against the wall.  
  
“It’s… it’s not like you have a monopoly over that,” the CEO mumbled, eyes shifting between the tips of polished boots and Jack’s own gaze.  
  
“Wait, are you for real?” He couldn’t help it, poking and prodding whenever he spotted an opening, a tender spot or a weakness in Rhys’ defenses, “are you really flirting with me kitten? Because this, this is kinda you know two outta ten, really bad,” and not working at all. What however was very much working on Jack, was the position of power he has put Rhys in, and how easy the man would crumble the second Jack decided to break him.  
  
What he wasn’t expecting, was a sudden shove to his chest, Rhys taking his turn in caging him, suddenly up in Jack’s space, warm, hot even, and heavy, breath laced with the expensive champagne trailing over his cheek.  
“Don’t think I didn’t notice _Jack_ , the way you act, the goddamned every single time you’ve ‘accidentally’ dropped something in front of my desk.” Jack was too busy wracking his brain over a single instance that might have happened, of course sometimes the papers would slip from his hands or there was that one time he seriously considered scooping Rhys’ brain out with a butter knife and subsequently tossed said knife to the floor, only to change his mind and try fishing it out again or… “I have eyes Jack, I know you swap our mugs after I’ve already used mine, which is kinda gross” Jack really wanted to explain himself, because really, the only time that happened was when he tried slipping poison into his boss’ coffee but then accidentally mixed up mugs and nearly drank a triple dose of Purple Skag himself, but ultimately decided it would be counterproductive to his situation “or the way you keep eyeing my chair like all you want,” by now Rhys’ lips were nearly brushing to Jack’s ear and he was finding it hard to breath, at the cusps of shaking with every word, torn between anger at Rhys’ misinterpretation and the intoxicating feeling of a thigh pressing between his, “...like all you want is to be pressed  into and fucked within an inch of your life.” Alright, at least here Rhys wasn’t too far off, although Jack always imagined himself doing the fucking. Regardless, Rhys finally getting something right had a low groan crawling up his throat.

“What happened to professionalism, sir?” even though his words were as cynical as he could possibly make them right after that positively needy sound, Jack wasn’t trying to put any distance between the two of them, surprised to find his own hands covering Rhys’ hips and choking on the heady taste of today’s success. He was sure that if he only leaned those few inches forward, he could lick it off of Rhys’ lips too.  
  
“Weren’t you the one to say that rules no longer apply to me? I’m done with you constantly blowing hot and cold.” Cocky as the CEO was acting, he still let out a surprised yelp when Jack reversed their positions, caging the man against the wall and bringing their hips together with a slow grind. The place wasn’t ideal, far from it, but Jack didn’t do patience, not when he could almost taste the frigging cherry on top of Rhys’ promotion.

“I…” Jack started and then paused immediately as he felt a mismatched set of fingertips skating across his front, up to his throat to fix the stupid tie, Rhys tightening the knot, and then tightening it some more till it breached into an almost strangling zone, Jack’s eyes growing wide.  
Sure he imagined picking the loathsome stretch of silk and wrapping it around Rhys’ neck so, so many times but right now, the possessive gesture easily chased those thoughts away, something clenching in Jack’s guts, clamping down on his initial reaction to struggle and retaliate only to leave a warm feeling of lazy surrender instead.  
  
“You,” Rhys picked up where Jack left off, “will let me go now. I’m not staying till the end of the party.” The man seemed absolutely thrilled with his newfound backbone to stand up to Jack, “I didn’t have the time to change the locks just yet… feel free to come later and check what happens when I stop being professional. If you’re not afraid of a disciplinary discharge for fraternization that is.”  
  
Quite frankly, Rhys was absolutely infuriating with that attitude of his, something that would need to be remedied soon as Jack got his hands on his boss proper, even though a small part of him, recognized his own behaviors that have rubbed off on the other man.

“Who taught you to be this bratty?” Jack mumbled, palms sweeping up Rhys’ sides, all the way up to tangle into his gelled hair to pull him into a ‘shut up’ kiss.  
  
The old Rhys was still somewhere in there, surprise freezing him in one spot and lips falling slack open to Jack’s touch, the man completely unresisting for a few seconds as an over eager tongue probed inside. This however wasn’t meant to last, the stupid, stupid kid briefly kissing back and follwing that with a bite before he reared his head back, index finger slipping to press over Jack’s lips and shush him in return.  
  
“I’ll have you know I have an excellent PA who taught me that, an excellent PA who’s needed back in there to wrap up the evening for me, as his duty demands.”  
  
Anger mixed with frustration nearly blinded and deafened him, giving Rhys an opportunity to slip free and once again start heading down the corridor. “Don’t forget to pass the CEO’s warmest regards to the board, and Mauve in particular!” With that, the man was gone, leaving Jack with slacks that felt too tight and a mission to send everyone home earlier.

 

* * *

 

Jack was nearly done with his third flute of champagne when people slowly started trickling out, and by then, he was at his wits’ end. He felt the polite, fake smile he wore around was nearly permanently etched into his face, now more of a grimace than anything else really.

That was not to say he didn’t enjoy the way people now eyed him that bit more warily with some sort of begrudging respect. But enough was enough, he was not the host of the party, and even if he was, there was a completely different part he still intended to attend.  
So with one last nod and a crooked grin sent towards the few remaining board members, Jack finally decided to call it a night.  
The lift taking im up to the CEO’s quarters was going at a snail’s pace, and then he absolutely did not run all the way up to the door, keying in the stolen passcodes and then keying them in correctly on the second pass.  
Once inside, he needed to blink away bright spots as his eyes adjusted to the lowlights of the seemingly empty apartment. 

“Boss?” Jack trailed deeper, dead set on not leaving until he could finally collect his hard earned reward, “Rhys?”

It took him a moment to locate the man lightly snoring in an armchair, already changed into something more comfortable, hair still damp and tv playing on mute in front of him.  
Rhys looked small and vulnerable like this, without the defensive layer of his formal clothes that made his shoulders look wider than they really were, without the heeled shoes giving him that inch or two more over Jack. He looked like the perfect prey, oh how easy it would be to get rid of the man right now, the fall from the top would be crushing and so, so satisfying.  
In this very moment, Jack wanted nothing more but to wrap his hands around Rhys’ throat, feel the speeding up pulse and soak in the flashing betrayal before that too would be gone.  
Tiptoeing closer, he carefully nudged the man’s legs closer together, shuffling until he was nearly straddling him, braced with one hand against the headrest. Rhys didn’t stir awake until there were fingers pressing against his throat, echo eye flashing panicked blue before he settled down again once he recognized his would-be murderer.  
  
“That suit really makes you look good…” it was a drowsy murmur, Rhys not yet awake enough to control his mouth which became glaringly obvious when he tried to cover it with a cough and suddenly squirming about.  
  
“Of course it does,” the grin tugging at the corners of Jack’s mouth finally felt genuine, a different set of muscles involved, stretching even wider when the gentle, hesitant touch to his hip invited him to seat himself fully over the CEO.  
  
A brief, amusing thought flashed through his somewhat unfocused mind, that if he wasn’t going to sit himself on the Hyperion throne any time soon, he wouldn’t mind satisfying his ambitions by planting his ass in the lap of the man sat there for the time being. Amusement was gone the next second however, Jack shaking his head when a flash of anger reminded him not to sell those ambitions of his short.  
Rhys was an obstacle, although a fairly attractive and currently getting a bit handsy one.  
  
Just for tonight, just that little bit longer, Jack would allow the man to be his puppet.  
  
Rhys sunk deeper into the plush finish of his armchair as Jack deposited more of his weight into the man’s lap, completely disappearing under his bulk and yet bravely trailing both hands over Jack’s thighs. The hesitation was still there, even as Jack carefully shrugged his jacket down the length of his arms, mind swimming with all the ideas of how he was going to have his boss in all the positions known to human race. And then some alien ones too. Most preferably, squirming underneath him. All he needed was that little bit more manipulation to sweeten the deal because Rhys definitely struck him as a huge loser and a sucker for praise - said praise tilting at the tip of Jack’s tongue.

“You did so well…” the words died unspoken in Jack’s throat when Rhys’ rumble filled what little space was between them, and left him absolutely conflicted. Because yeah, of course he did well, he didn’t need to be reminded of that but then again, it felt so good to finally be appreciated. Even by a loser twerp like Rhys, a satisfied warmth expanding in Jack’s chest and leaving him, quite frankly, wanting more. He was about to say something more, point out that Rhys was oh so right maybe, or maybe growl and hiss and remind him of his place but there were hands sliding down his back, flesh and bone fingers grabbing at his ass and sending Jack lurching forward in his surprise. Which only led to him grinding into Rhys, his own hands fisting into the man’s stupid t-shirt as the rough material of his underwear bit uncomfortably into the sensitive skin of his dick.  
  
“Huh? You liked that, baby?”

This was ridiculous, Rhys had no right sounding like that… so patronizing, like he felt he was in charge of Jack’s pleasure, and Jack was about to protest, slap the pet name back into his boss’ face but then the grip shifted lower. Fingers knead into the junction where Jack’s thighs met his ass, to where his very tender, thank you very much, bits were already squashed against the seam of his straining slacks, words turning into a low groan because holy shit that felt good.  
  
Jack had to bite another, louder, building moan back, teeth digging into his lower lip which for some bizarre reason prompted Rhys to splay the fingers of his cybernetic arm over Jack’s cheek, pressing closer to kiss him sweetly, nearly shyly. Jack felt absolutely disgusted, too distracted by fuming at this stupid, shitty softcore treatment he barely paid attention to the grinding rhythm the hand at his ass guided him into. However, the anger was sobering enough to have him slapping the touch to his face away and glaring down at the surprised expression flitting across Rhys’ face. For a second or two, Jack went still, before reaching up to comb the mussed up hair out of his eyes, hips canting down into another grind as he desperately tried to calculate the optimal course of action that would have him sticking his dick into his boss, as they said, ASAP. He almost, almost had it figured out only to once again have his attention drawn by the lips parted so invitingly, the sliver of sharp collarbones visible over the neckline of that stupid shirt and before Jack could finish his scheming, he was aggressiely latching himself onto Rhys’ mouth, biting and roughly trying to shove his tongue inside.  
  
“Oh, oh yeah, noted, okay, I c-can do that,” Rhys was mumbling feverishly between one stinging pass of Jack’s lips and another. Christ, did the man even know how to stay quiet for longer than a second? The oh so rewarding touch to Jack’s ass ceased, only to shift to his wrist, definitely erring into painful where metal fingers were involved as Rhys tried to pry his hands away from the shirt Jack was currently trying to rip, “don’t...ahhh...don’t tear it, easy, let me…” Rhys gave him a light shove to get up and as Jack did, the man followed, pulling the shirt over his head.

“Shut up. Just…” Jack had to draw in a shaky breath as his eyes, and then immediately fingertips, traced over the intricate blue designs, “shut up. Less talking, more fucking.”

“Eager much?” Rhys’ chuckle was a low albeit nervous sound, tapering off into a sharp exhale when Jack’s patience has reached its limit and he gave the man a shove to get him moving.

“A bit on a friggin’ clock here, been there since forever,” as he spoke, Jack worked his tie loose, advancing and forcing the other man to walk backwards towards where he knew the bedroom was, “so move kitten before…” he didn’t get to finish his sentence when Rhys’ back gracelessly bumped into the wall just east of the door, a near hysterical sound bubbling in his chest. This was the man he was nearly painfully hard for? Really? Jack had standards although, his dick seemed to have a different, lower set of those.

“Before what?” a rhetorical question because Rhys was pulling him into another kiss, seizing up when Jack tried to wrestle control, his, this time, hands dipping under the fabric of Rhys’ underwear to paw at a handful of flesh. Jack was too impatient, too, dare he say it, eager, and after a short while, he was finally pulling back to steer the other man towards their destination.  
  
Rhys’ back hit the mattress, Jack pausing only for long enough to get rid of his vest and shirt, eyes never leaving the man splayed so invitingly across the bed.

There was a soft moan leaving Rhys’ lips, gaze roaming over the steadily unveiled skin before, to Jack’s absolute surprise, the man threw one arm over his face and positively whined, “god, you’re gonna look so beautiful riding me…”

That statement left Jack with eyebrows shooting up to nearly connect with his hairline and mouth agape as he stared stumped, brain struggling to process the implications. The momentary hesitation was enough for Rhys to scramble up into a sitting position, hands sweeping down Jack’s sides and then working on helping him push his slacks and underwear down. 

“The only one doing any fucking…” Jack grabbed a handful of the other man’s hair, pulling his head back, “...will be me.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, whatever you say babe,” for someone currently tearing a small packet of lube open with his teeth while staring back at him with half lidded, Rhys complied way too easily and before Jack could make sure his words made it through the lust haze clearly fogging his boss’ brain there were slicked up fingers slipping down the line of his spine somewhere more intimate. Without much prelude two slender fingers wormed their way up his ass and Jack sucked in an offended hiss, ready to make his disapproval widely known. Except all that came out was a strangled groan, edging but never making it into the coherent departament. Especially not when he felt lips skimming down his front. He didn’t really even have the time to prepare for the intrusion, no time to tense up with anticipation although he did choose to blame it on a clearly high quality lube, muttering something offensive as he was urged to clamber back into Rhys’ lap. Steadying himself with palms pressed against the boney angles of Rhys’ shoulder, Jack shoved his previous complains to the back of his head, back arching when he couldn’t resist buckling down onto the fingers working him open, shaking when the comparatively cool metal of the other man’s cybernetic fingers brushed over the heated tip of his dick. 

“Ahh, fuck, Jack,” he could barely register the weight of the words pressed into his chest, “you can fuck me like that anyday…” Jack’s addled hindbrain tried to alert him of a possible contradiction happening right now but a particularly well aimed pass of the fingers inside of him had sparks of pleasure burning out those thoughts. 

A bit more sober and a whole lotta less horny Jack would be most likely losing his shit about the situation, as things were however, he was soon chasing Rhys’ hands away and pushing the man flat onto his back as he scuttled a bit closer into what he deemed a more convenient position. 

“That’s right kitten gonna...nnn…” Jack started slowly sinking down, teeth briefly worrying at his lower lip, “...make you feel it into the next week.” Because really, what was he supposed to say in this situation having usually found himself on the other end of such an arrangement?

Rhys was all praise and insistent touches keeping Jack’s head and cock deep in the game, gently rolling his hips up as he bottomed up. Gritting his teeth, Jack was soon lifting himself up before letting gravity do all the hard work, quickly discovering the unwelcomed bite of Rhys’ hip bones against the underside of his thigh. Jack tried for something a bit more comfortable, leaning forward to brace himself against the man’s chest and apparently squeezing the air out of him if the wheezing exhale was anything to go by. Not that Jack cared in particular as he experimentally canted his hips, looking for that sweet angle Rhys’ fingers seemed to achieve so easily previously. This was… a lot more work than he anticipated, muscles he apparently rarely used starting to burn after a few eager bounces up and down. 

Jack let out a huff, squirmed some more, tried leaning back, but ultimately, he just couldn’t find a position that would work for him for long enough to get anywhere beside god damned tired. Rhys’ unimpressed expression wasn’t really helpful either. Eventually, the man sat up, cybernetic fingers pressing into Jack’s hip to stop his jerky movements.

“Alright, you really need to work on your technique if you wanna keep the position,” despite the tongue in cheek tone and the wink that followed, Jack felt absolutely inclined to file out a sexual harassment report right about now. He was drawing an offended breath in to voice his concerns when a yank sent him tumbling over and onto his front. The mattress dipped with the shift of their weight, Rhys pulling him to the edge, the bed a stupid height that left Jack partly dangling over the edge, unable to neither kneel down nor stand up, feet skidding across the floor as he scrambled for purchase. Rhys was right at his back, pressed flush over him and guiding himself back in with some blind pawing. 

“Let…” fingers briefly tangled into the hair at the nape of Jack’s neck, weighing him down before Rhys’ hands moved to wrap around his wrists, “...daddy show you how it’s done.”

He very much wanted to point out the absolutely creepy idiocy of Rhys’ statement but the sudden thrust forced both his breath and thoughts out of him. The younger man sure could pack some stamina, not that Jack in his position wouldn’t be doing equally good if not better mind you. 

It didn’t take long for Rhys to build up to a steady, fast pace, his slightly downward angle doing pretty damn great at chasing away any thoughts of protest. Jack was left holding onto the bedsheets for dear life, eyes squeezed shut and muscles wound up tight from the less than ideal position and the mounting pleasure. A small, still somewhat lucid part of his brain was taking avid notes of the way Rhys rolled into every forward thrust, said notes scattering when the man figured out a short grind whenever he was fully buried inside of Jack prompted the loudest response. 

Never having been particularly quiet in the first place, Jack was letting the obscene noises of his satisfaction flow freely, since between lack of proper purchase and the hands pinning him down, there wasn’t much left he could do anyway. There wasn’t much he could do to help himself tip over the edge either, uselessly trying to get some friction against the edge of the bed.

Sensing a more desperate tinge to the way Rhys move in and out of him, Jack felt necessary to warn the other man that he really wouldn’t appreciate being used even more than he currently was, “d-ahhh, fuck,” his last coherent thought bid him farewell when Rhys pressed into the spot inside of him sparking a near chain reaction in him “...cum in me, asshole.”

“Shit, Jack, yeah, okay … okay,” Rhys sounded like there wasn’t much thinking going on in his brain either, short of breath and muffling his own groans into Jack’s shoulder. It however seemed to be clear enough of a sign for the CEO to release one of Jack’s wrists, splaying himself over Jack and reaching to offer a few helping touches. 

Thankfully, Rhys had enough presence of mind left that the fingers wrapping in a tight ring around Jack’s length were blissfully warm and very much flesh and bone. He wasn’t sure if he would escape with his dick intact otherwise. Praising Rhys’ last brain cell would have to wait for later however, as the man vigorously starter gliding his fist up and down in time with his thrusts. 

A few shaky groans and maybe some pleading that Jack chose to quickly forget later, he was seizing up, molten heat coursing through his veins and muscles trembling with the effort to will himself into a well deserved orgasm.

Once it hit, it hit him like a ton of bricks, release coming with a string of curses dripping from his slack lips, and a near deafness, Jack pulled taut to the point of briefly fearing he would break. Groundless as that concern was, the bonelessness that came next left him feeling like a puppet with its strings severed, Jack listlessly jerked about with the dying out motion of the man above and inside him. 

Something tried to gnaw at his tired consciousness, a fading reminder that things didn’t exactly go the way he wanted them to but currently, Jack was very satisfied with himself, if rather sticky in places he really didn’t want to be sticky.

Rhys rolled off of him, shuffling about till he could drop down onto the bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling. “Wow.”

“Wow my ass,” Jack grumbled, still trying to catch his breath as he wormed his way under the comforter, “told you to fucking pull out.”

He could hear the exasperated sigh escaping the other man, and woah, the nerve of this asshole, “you explicitly told me ‘cum in me’...” but Rhys didn’t sound like he was holding a grudge against Jack’s complaints, “...and that was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Of course it was,” Jack was now slightly more inclined to re-examine his original statement. Perhaps he really did tell the other man to do that, after all, it sounded super hot.

As Jack fell asleep, in one last effort, he ticked ‘seducing and fucking the Hyperion CEO’ off on his career development plan, leaving ‘and then killing the fucker’ for later.

 

* * *

  
A couple hours into the night later, Jack slipped quietly out of the bed, sneaking around the apartment to rummage through various drawers and other stupid hidey holes scattered around Rhys’ apartment. 

He was elbows deep in the CEO’s desk when its owner cleared his throat from the doorway leading into the home office, “did you get lost on your way out?”

Jack felt the tips of his ears reach the point of boiling in response to the, admittedly, adorably sleepy snarl. “Trying to find the washroom after some jerk dumped a bucket load of jizz into my ass,” hopefully that was crude enough to distract Rhys enough for Jack to book it.

“In my office?” Or maybe not, Rhys tiredly rubbing his eyes as he uncurled his cybernetic arm from where it was securing a bathrobe around his naked form, “is this what you were looking for?” In the center of his palm, sat the object of Jack’s current desire, the twice cursed data stick containing enough blackmail material to bring down Hyperion in one fell swoop. He couldn’t hide greed lighting up in his eyes, fingers curling into fists as he considered just lurching forward and wrestling it from his boss’ possessive grasp. If only his muscles weren’t so sore.

“Go home Jack, shower cause you stink, get some shut eye, we have a Vault Key to get and a board to replace tomorrow.”

 

Homicide could wait till another day, Jack decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am quite purposefully leaving it quite open-ended but ifl we all know how well that deal wit Fiona will go and where this downward spiral leads to.  
> This was a very weird fic for me to write because the inspiration kinda came in spurs.
> 
> _  
> If you care, there is some saucy art for it you can find on my twitter  
> ->  
> https://twitter.com/vismisafterdark/status/1144738586094387202

**Author's Note:**

> since i've already have a bit done for the second chapter i figured i'd post what i have so far and see if i can get some inspiration from ya'll's feedback. please let me know your thoughts and expectations, it always makes it easier to write the rest.


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